Wicked Schemes
by Pinstripes and Buttons
Summary: Lily/Lysander - Even angels have their wicked schemes, though you take that to new extremes, I know deep inside you'll always be mine, from birth to now to the end of time.


Lily hurried over fallen limbs and through sunbaked leaves; down the sloping hills and along the vast expanse of water she pushed herself forward. She refused to think, she refused to cry. She would not cry.

Thunderheads swirled at the lip of the horizon, darkening and swelling, creeping ever closer. Yet, it seemed another world away, with the sweat clinging to the nape of her neck under the intense summer heat. Rain would be the last thing to ruin this day . . . If only she could move faster.

Rumbling sneakers over weathered wooden boards - Lily flung herself into the air, propelled forward by desire more than momentum. _Splash!_ Sinking, oh lord, she was sinking. In the distance of her mind, she wondered why it was she had refused swimming lessons. The dark water of the icy lake filled her nose and chilled her eyes, but she kept them open and willed herself lower. Deeper into the abyss, further from the sunlight, and the storm . . . even as she headed for its heart.

At the surface, time moved at a different pace. The air hung heavy and low, a sleepy haze of heat, it shimmered over the water, bringing lively hues to the world. A subtle breeze rustled the leaves of the forest. Their sound clung to the air like wind chimes and lullabies. One second, then another, and slowly, painfully slowly, it ebbed into another . . .

A mass inhale as the water was disturbed and two heads broke through into summer. Hands frantically slapped the sloshing water, and frantically more legs kicked out, willing to take them to the dock, if only within arms reach and nothing more.

"You're out of your mind!" he shook his head fiercely, his blond hair stretching out like a pale halo. Straightening his shoulders and firming his stance, he shot his starburst eyes at her. When Lysander met Lily's eyes, his own were logged with water of another kind. Anger evaporated from every pore of his skin, leaving only apologies.

Lily, much as she wanted to, could not bring herself to face him. She shouldered past him, her sneakers squeaking, her red hair matted auburn with water. Her own arms embraced her, and she told herself she would not cry. She would not cry.

"Lily!"

Lysander's voice was different now; in a heartbeat, he had changed, and in another, he would again, if only something told him not too. Still, she refused to let herself turn around. What would that mean if she did? Would all her strength let go, leaving her a puddle of nothing at his feet, something more he could walk over without compassion? He had hurt her before, and again, and if she did, would the pattern not continue in seamless rhythm? She could not turn around, and she would not cry.

"Lily please?" He touched her arm, his pruned fingers cold against her exposed skin. It was enough to make her still, but not enough . . . thankfully not enough.

But his voice, his voice . . . It was smooth as silky chocolate left outside on a day such as the one she lived. It was tender, and it was kind, and it was everything that reminded her that she was capable of feeling hatred . . . and that he was capable of feeling love. It was the song she couldn't stop hearing, long after the instruments were gone, and it was the gentle embrace she longed for on lonely nights when warmth wasn't enough.

Lily did not move further, though Lysander took his time in choosing the words he would say next. They would make all the difference, though their impact was lacking in action. He was good with words - it was his actions that left a hollow ache in her chest, the kind that couldn't be filled, no matter how much she believed that all she needed was more ice cream.

Then, like the introduction cords of a melody, he sighed. Gingerly, she felt his arms snake around her, over her own. Lily kept her attention directly ahead, not wanting to see his fingers curl around hers, or her own invite his in. "Have you ever loved somebody so much you can barely breathe?"

She felt her shoulders tense, and her eyes cast her world to shadows.

"I'm tired of the games, Lily. I just want you back . . . and I need you to come back."

Nervous, her voice constricted, Lily dared, "And if I don't?"

"Who will you run to, after you drowned running to me?"

"Our relationship is-"

Lysander cut across her, " -Crazy, I know. But all of the voices and the gossip - I don't want to listen to that anymore."

"I love the way you lie, so flawlessly." Lily said clearly, a bite to her tone as her eyes opened again. The sun flashed, the world burned with a fiery brightness that only made her smile faintly.

His grip tightened for a second, then he let her go entirely. "Go then, if you don't want me anymore. Run! Run like the fool you've always been!"

Impulse drove her, the hatred and love that conflicted at her core spun her around. With hair the wicked tongue of fire behind her, Lily said in a lowered threat, "I never said I didn't want you!"

Lysander smiled with victory, "You would have walked if you didn't. I needed to see your face, that savage passion in your eyes."

"Idiot," she spat, "You go and drown yourself to get me back and leave what? - A letter of farewell should I fail."

"I knew you wouldn't," Lysander said, his teeth gleaming white in the sunlight, the thunderheads closing in, charging the air. Lily shot him a look and a scorch mark blackened the wood at his feet. "One of the reasons I could never love another. Your temper is powerful."

"As is yours. If you'd keep your hands off me-"

"We wouldn't have as much fun." so casual were his words, the pitch of his voice so level, that the tension between them vanished in that moment. He was right, by every fibre of his being he knew it, and in realization, Lily could not bring herself to deny it. She hated him, but loved him just that much more, and for that reason, she would always stay, however dark the approaching horizon would remain while in his company.

Lysander stepped toward her, and with each step she met his challenge, until they stood less than a breath apart. Never utter the words, never show weakness. Two rules of one relationship doomed by fate and pursued by damaged hearts. Taking her hands in his own, his eyes dared her to try something. Lily knew she wouldn't, not there, not in that time. Melting together, the thunder overhead tossed the wind into a tantrum, and brought wicked smiles to both pairs of eyes, though they would never admit it.


End file.
